


(Heart)Strings and Melodies

by orphan_account



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Coffee Shops, Drinking, Enemies to Lovers, M/M, Partying, a dash of swearing here and there, gyuhao if you squint, omg idk how to tag
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-25
Updated: 2018-12-25
Packaged: 2019-09-26 18:59:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 7,225
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17147297
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: “Wonwoo. I’m Jeon Wonwoo. Nice meeting you—”“Kwon Soonyoung,” he answers in a snap, mentally kicking himself for being too eager and completely forgetting his initial agenda. He cannot let this Jeon Wonwoo get to him and shatter his defenses. Not this Jeon Wonwoo who has a voice so deep Soonyoung swears he could smell rich, hot chocolate in the air. Not this Jeon Wonwoo whose nose scrunch up in the most adorable way possible whenever he smiles and my god he really is so cute. Soonyoung knows from this exact moment that he is perpetually fucked.orAU where Soonyoung hates his neighbor Wonwoo because he won’t let him sleep peacefully





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [peachtrees](https://archiveofourown.org/users/peachtrees/gifts).



> You have a lot (and I mean a LOT) of interesting prompts that it took me a while to decide on what to use. In the end I have this piece which has been ~loosely~ based from one or two of your given prompts. 
> 
> DAJSHKJ I cannot write to save my life but I do hope that you like this little gift that I prepared for you! 
> 
> Happy Holidays!

It takes exactly eight nights before Soonyoung has had enough sleeplessness for him to get up from his bed and angrily stomp out of his room and out his front door. When Mingyu, a friend Soonyoung made from one of his theatre introductory classes during freshman year, told him he can stay at his old apartment unit, he was overly ecstatic. It is not exactly common for a struggling undergraduate student to get housing all to himself for free. Still, humbled and touched as he may be, Soonyoung could not just accept Mingyu’s offer without paying him back, which is how and why he ended up working for Gyu Brew, an off-campus coffee shop owned by none other than the rich and handsome Kim Mingyu.

Kwon Soonyoung has everything he could ever ask for – an apartment all to himself, a decent job, good friends, and a sterling academic record.

However, when things seem to be getting too perfect, the universe gets suspicious and starts to run amok. Mingyu definitely did not tell him about his neighbor. Specifically, his neighbor who seem to be the most insensitive asshole Soonyoung has had the unfortunate fate of (not yet, and hopefully not ever) meeting. It just so happens that this neighbor of his jams every night, noisy guitar riffs, deafening drum beats, and boisterous laughs permeating through the wall that separate their apartment units. Sleeping neighbors be damned.

Mingyu definitely did not tell Soonyoung he would be tossing and turning in his bed trying to drown out these noises, hence the current situation wherein Soonyoung finds himself in front of his neighbor’s front door, a scowl on his face contrasting the smiling bunnies printed on his pajamas. He bangs on the door with all his sleep-deprived might, hoping the sound is loud enough to make it through whatever ruckus is happening behind it.

He hears shuffling inside, then a set of heavy footsteps before the door bursts open, the light from inside the apartment spilling out and momentarily blinding him. Soonyoung barely catches the face of whoever opened the door before it slams shut to his face again. He reaches for his phone kept in his pocket and checks the time, sighing as 2:34am stares back at him. He counts the number of hours left to catch up on sleep (there are not many) before he decides it’s not worth it and head back to his bedroom in defeat, hoping to at least get some shut eye.

Soonyoung stops in his tracks though as he hears someone clear their throat, particularly from the direction where he has just come from. “Where are you going,” the voice says, dragging the words into a slight slur. “My friend inside told me someone paid me a little visit. Do you wanna come inside and join us?” It might just be the sleep deprivation kicking in, but Soonyoung can certainly hear teasing from that tone and that is enough to rile him up even more. He turns on his feet and strides angrily back to face this obnoxious airhead he has for a neighbor.

“Listen here, you dipshit. I don’t know what goes on in that head of yours, but just in case you weren’t aware, you are in an apartment block and you have a neighbor who, by the way, is trying their damnest best to get some decent, quality, healing sleep. So if you don’t mind, can you and your little friends please shut the fuck up and let people sleep even for once!”

Soonyoung lets out a long huff after vomiting out the words he has been repressing for the past eight nights. His cheeks feel warm from all the adrenaline coursing through his veins. Getting to shout those words right to the face of the culprit of his sleep deprivation has given him more satisfaction than when he got an A for that one theatre history paper he bullshitted his way through. Said culprit, however, just stares at him silently, mouth hanging slightly ajar as if Soonyoung’s rejection of his “hospitality” is the biggest blow to his ego. It is not long, however, before he composes himself and smiles at Soonyoung, still keeping eye contact despite the tension that should be hanging in the air. The pregnant pause gives Soonyoung enough time to properly scan the face of his enemy and _shit,_ he thinks to himself. _He’s damn cute._

“Geez, you didn’t have to be that sour about it,” the neighbor says, bringing his hand up to rub the back of his neck. “You could have just told me nicely. We could have toned it down a bit or maybe even find some other place to play only to not disturb someone so cute like you.” He smirks.

Soonyoung’s brain short circuits and malfunctions at this point. He stands frozen in front of his _cute_ neighbor’s unit, feeling stupid in his bunny pajamas and previous outburst. _He thinks I’m cute what the fuck._ Soonyoung shakes his head to rid himself of these intrusive thoughts, remembering why he stormed out in the first place. However, whatever strain of annoyance and irritation he has earlier has completely vanished as he feels himself heat up under the stare of –

“Wonwoo. I’m Jeon Wonwoo. Nice meeting you—”

“Kwon Soonyoung,” he answers in a snap, mentally kicking himself for being too eager and completely forgetting his initial agenda. He cannot let this Jeon Wonwoo get to him and shatter his defenses. Not this Jeon Wonwoo who has a voice so deep Soonyoung swears he could smell rich, hot chocolate in the air. Not this Jeon Wonwoo whose nose scrunch up in the most adorable way possible whenever he smiles and _my god he really is so cute._ Soonyoung has never cursed at himself so intensely.

“Well then, Soonyoung. I’m genuinely sorry about what happened. I honestly didn’t know we were being so loud,” Wonwoo apologizes, still keeping his eyes on the smaller male. If he does not stop, Soonyoung might just faint on the spot. “I promise it won’t happen again.”

“It better not.” Three words that Soonyoung has managed to conjure out of his dazed mind before he turns his back and scuttle back to his apartment, into his bedroom, and on his bed.

That night, Soonyoung sleeps peacefully for the first time in eight days, dreaming of a sweet smile and a smooth chocolate voice.


	2. Chapter 2

“You have to go to this party or I’m kicking you out of my apartment, and I’m revoking our friendship card,” Kim Mingyu threatens Soonyoung in between bites of a chicken burrito, bits of rice flying out his mouth to land on the cafeteria table. Mingyu might be tall, rich, and handsome, but he is just about the clumsiest person Soonyoung has ever met. He wonders if this is the universe’s way of keeping things balanced. One cannot really have everything at once, after all.

“You know that’s on a Thursday and we have Scriptwriting Workshop and I have Art Appreciation early Fridays,” Soonyoung reminds. “I can’t, Gyu. And you know you can’t as well. You’re not exactly Prof. Jung’s favorite, are you?” At the sudden reminder of his grim fate, Mingyu lowers his burrito and pouts at the older male in front of him. Soonyoung only rolls his eyes at him, already immune to the childish way his friend does to get what he wants.

-

As it turns out, this so-called immunity of his is nothing but faux as Soonyoung is currently sandwiched between sweaty bodies, as he tries to snake his way out the partying crowd to get some precious oxygen. He is not exactly the biggest fan of cigarettes, and he values his life enough so no, thank you, he thinks he’ll pass on the the second-hand smoke.

Soonyoung finds the stairwell and climbs up three steps, craning his neck like a hawk hunting for its prey, as he scans the crowd for his friends who, as far as he can recall, all arrived with him at this god-forsaken party. They are, however, nowhere to be found. Soonyoung resigns and heads to the kitchen instead. If he is going to endure this party until the end, might as well go through it with a hazy mind. He passes through a group of boys doing body shots, a couple, who suspiciously look like Minghao and Mingyu, sprawled out on the couch eating each other’s faces, more sweaty bodies grinding on each other as the bass echoes in a dull thump against the cramped walls of the frat house, hazy faces of ecstasy as the night deepens and the fun starts getting hotter.

He finally reaches the kitchen where he scooped himself some of the liquid in the punch bowl. At this point he does not care anymore what is in it, just as long as it is potent enough to let him sail through the evening like a night breeze.

“Soon! There you are, I’ve been looking everywhere for you!” He hears Mingyu’s voice call out to him.

“Yeah, sure you were looking for me and not sucking Minghao’s face off,” Soonyoung giggles over the sound of a pop song blasting through the speakers. He is not sure how many of cups of that fruity punch he has consumed, but he does not care. He feels good. He can conquer the world.

Mingyu, however, chokes on his own spit as soon as he heard what his friend had to say. Even through the dim lights and his hazy perception, Soonyoung knows that Mingyu’s face is flushed a deep crimson color. “Whatever, you’re tipsy, Soon. You’re seeing things,” he shrugs, trying to sound as nonchalant as he can muster.

The night flies by in a flurry of alcohol games and dares and drunken makeouts. Soonyoung’s head spins like the wheels of the bus they rode to get to this house. He vaguely remembers losing a beer pong match, and as a punishment, he had to chug a pitcher of beer. Mingyu, that devil spawn, this is all his fault. _I’ll revoke his friendship card before he can revoke mine. Ha!_ He stumbles into the living room, the crowd earlier obviously dissipated, so he makes his way to the front door and out the frat house easily.

Or not. As soon as he managed to turn the door knob, he stumbles out, almost diving face first to the front porch, if it were not for the arms that caught him just in time. Annoyed at the sudden contact, Soonyoung grumbles something incoherently before looking up to see who grabbed him without his permission.  

“Well, if it isn’t Jeon Wonwoo,” he says, amusement heavy in his drunken voice. “I’ve been thinking about you since that night. You’re so annoying. And cute. God, aren’t you attractive.”

Soonyoung gives up trying to unlatch the other’s arms from saving him from a fall earlier. Instead, he loops his arms around the taller male’s neck, pulling him in to draw their faces closer together.

“You’re drunk, Soonyoung,” Wonwoo mutters, his breath tickling Soonyoung’s lips and urging him to close the gap and taste the sweet, sweet kiss he has been craving.

Soonyoung feels his belly turn upside down, his guts twisting as he feels a lump in his throat. He wonders if this is what being in love feels like. He closes his eyes, gulping in to loosen the knots his throat has got into. As he draws closer and closer to Wonwoo’s lips, Soonyoung feels bile rush to his esophagus, into his mouth, and out to Wonwoo’s neck, shoulder, and chest. Warm liquid drips from the sides of his mouth down to his neck, and the  stink of his own vomit stings his nose, but he could not care less. He knows at this exact moment that he, Kwon Soonyoung, is perpetually fucked.


	3. Chapter 3

It’s the sunlight that wakes up Soonyoung the next morning. He opens his eyes, only to shut them off again after being almost blinded by the bright rays seeping into the window to shine down directly at his face. He feels hot, his mouth feels like wet cotton and sand, and his body feels sticky in all places. He puts up an arm over his eyes, wincing as he felt his head throb in pain. _Fuck, how wasted was I last night_? _How did I even get home?_ Soonyoung searches his brain for any memory of what transpired the night before. He remembers going inside a cramped house, bass thumping and blasting in his ears, and the smell of cigarettes and alcohol making him queasy. A haze of bodies dancing, grinding against each other, shots of colored drinks warming his throat, Mingyu daring him to down a pitcher of beer in one shot, a pair of lips on him, and vomiting. Lots of it. _Oh._

Soonyoung’s thoughts gets interrupted by his phone, the trill of its ringtone drilling into his skull and ultimately turning his brain into a grey mush.

“Who the fuck –” he mutters under his breath as he shuffles over to search for the device, finding it some twenty seconds later under the clothes he had carelessly thrown on the foot of his bed last night. He slides his finger across the screen to answer the call and presses a button to put it on loud speaker.

“KWON SOONYOUNG! WHY WEREN’T YOU IN CLASS TODAY??”

Soonyoung jolts up at the mention of class, turning his head around to look at the clock on his bedside table. The numbers 11:34 flashes mockingly right at him in bright red, and he suddenly does not feel so hung over anymore. He almost trips on his own foot as he scrambles to get up, hastily putting on whatever shirt he can find lying around his room, not even giving a damn anymore whether it was clean or days old. “Shit, I can’t be late.”

“If you’re worried about being late,” Minghao says, stifling a chuckle. “Then worry no more, my friend. Professor Kim dismissed us early and you are totally marked as absent.”

Soonyoung stops shoving his school materials in his backpack, mouth hanging open as he sits at the end of his bed in defeat upon hearing what his friend just said. “No, you’re joking. I swear to god, Xu Minghao if this is some kind of a sick joke,” he throws at the other, not really knowing what he was going to say. This is the first time that he has ever skipped a class in his entire college life, and he certainly does not feel ecstatic about breaking that record. He curses Mingyu in his head and makes a mental note to greet him with a flying kick the next time they see each other.

Minghao does not even try to hide his amusement this time. He cackles over the line for a good five seconds. “Jesus, Soon. How wrecked were you last night for you to totally miss a midday class?” he teases while giggling. “Anyway, remember that introductory paper we’re supposed to write for Art Appreciation class? We won’t be partners for that, unfortunately.”

“Wait, what do you mean we’re not partners for the paper?” Soonyoung practically yells over his phone, panic rising in his voice. He does not know anyone else in that class, and he certainly does not want to work with a stranger. At least he trusts Minghao enough to know that they would be having logical discussions and arguments, and more importantly, he knows where Minghao lives, making it easy to just storm over in case the other decides to ghost on him when the deadline for the paper nears. Soonyoung closes his eyes and rubs his temples, totally regretting chugging that pitcher of beer.

“I’m sorry, Soon. I couldn’t really do anything about it. Professor Kim said that we should only be pairing up with someone present during class hours,” a sincere apology coats Minghao’s tone. “But don’t worry, I know who your partner will be! I’ll text you their contact details, okay?”

Minghao rambles on for the next minute about what to do and what to eat during a hangover, but Soonyoung, having laid down on his bed again, tunes out for the most part, his head still too hazy because of the leftover alcohol in his system. He manages to groan a goodbye in response before the other puts the call to an end. Not long after, his phone pings with an incoming message. He unlocks his phone and stares at the screen displaying his partner’s contact details.

_Jeon Wonwoo_

_+693895647321_

Staring at his screen in disbelief, Soonyoung lets out a groan and concludes that this is the worst day of his life.


	4. Chapter 4

“You look like shit.”

“Thanks. My body definitely loved the copious amount of alcohol you all forced on me last night,” Soonyoung huffs indignantly as he shoves his bag inside his work locker. He is dressed in an old sweater and a tracksuit that he is not sure how many days old, just that it still is sort of acceptable when he smelled it before wearing it. He attempts to shade his puffed eyes with dark sunglasses, hoping it would mask the whole wasted aura oozing off him. Obviously, it does not work.

“Is Jeonghan here yet? I hope not because I certainly don’t need him nagging me about last week’s inventory which, by the way, you were supposed to finish.” Soonyoung lowers his sunglasses to throw death glares toward Seokmin, who is already tying his apron around his waist. “This has got to be the worst day of my life. I’d rather be in Folklore class than have to endure this,” Soonyoung groans as he slumps dramatically against the locker.

Seokmin, however, remains indifferent towards Soonyoung’s theatrical cries. “Tell me about it later, Soon. Go get dressed, we got a lot of work to do here and I need my paycheck,” he slightly pushes Soonyoung’s shoulder, reminding him that they actually have a coffee shop to run tonight.

-

For a Friday night, Gyu Brew is surprisingly empty. Usually, every table would be occupied with students getting high on caffeine as they work to meet deadlines, or just to leech off the café’s wifi and procrastinate, who knows. Tonight, however, only a lanky freshman who seems too nervous for his own good sits on one of the tables. _U-uh I’ll have a… an expresso_ , he managed to spurt out earlier. _You mean an espresso,_ Soonyoung snaps, immediately regretting it after seeing the embarrassed look on the poor guy’s face. Seokmin laughs at the encounter, making the guy blush even more that his face looked like the ripest tomato about to burst. He brews it either way and gives it to Chan, the freshman’s name as they later learn. The cup of liquid caffeine sits untouched for the past fifteen minutes as Chan fiddles with his phone repeatedly, occasionally staring up to stare at the direction of the counter.

Soonyoung is wiping the already pristine marble counter when the bell chimes, signifying that a customer just entered the shop. “Welcome to Gyu Bre—” His rehearsed cheery greeting is cut short as soon as Soonyoung realizes who just walked in. Feeling the panic rise in his body, he ducks under the counter, hitting his head on one of the bottom shelves. Seokmin walks out from the back room, confusion evident on his face as he stares at his co-worker currently curled up on the floor. _It’s him,_ Soonyoung mouths.

“I know you’re there. You’re not exactly Harry Houdini, are you?” A voice that Soonyoung has been dreading for the entire day booms in his ears.

“Hi, I’m Seokmin. What can I get for you?”

“A tall iced americano. Give it an extra double shot.” Wonwoo said, as if he has recited this line countless of times. “And oh, tell your friend, who is hiding behind this counter, we need to talk.”

At this point, Soonyoung decides that he hates Wonwoo even more.

-

They have been sitting on one of the tables outside the café for five minutes now, the condensation on Wonwoo’s iced americano pooling at the bottom of the cup. The night breeze brings a chill to Soonyoung’s spine, but the atmosphere between the two of them is heated enough for sweat to slightly bead around his temples.

“Mingyu told me I can find you here,” Wonwoo is the first to break the silence.

“What. How do you even know Mingyu. Actually, nevermind. I don’t actually care. Listen, what happened last night- I was drunk- I did not know- I was not in the right state of mind…” Soonyoung trails off as he sees a smirk grow on Wonwoo’s face. He certainly is not looking forward to whatever words are going to come out of his mouth.

“I have to say, you’re a pretty good kisser. At least when you’re not projectile vomiting towards me, that is.” Wonwoo’s smirk has grown into a full-blown grin, obviously enjoying the sight before him that is Soonyoung whining in embarrassment and burying his crimson face in his hands. “I’m just playing. We did not really kiss. Well, you tried to. But then you had this entire throwing up thing going on with you.”

Soonyoung mumbles something incoherently before lifting his head up to face Wonwoo with whatever is left of his dignity.

“That’s for you robbing me of sleep for a week. I guess, we’re even now.” _Good_ , Soonyoung thinks to himself. _You still got it in you. Don’t let him shatter you._

Wonwoo furrows his eyebrows and averts his gaze from Soonyoung. “Right,” he mutters under his breath. “I said I was sorry about that. I really had no idea I had a neighbor.” He sounded too sincere that Sooyoung feels bad for retorting at him.  “For the longest time the unit beside mine has been empty. Mingyu sometimes stay the night there, but on most days it’s just me living on that block.” Wonwoo takes a sip of his iced coffee, seemingly hesitating to continue talking. “It gets lonely, you know. So one day I figured why not invite my friends over, have a little jam session. A little music never hurt nobody.

“But then one night you appeared out of the blue accusing me of being a dipshit. I have to say, for someone who looked like they were about to burst into a thousand pieces because of anger, I would have thought you’ll think of a better insult than dipshit. What is this, the 1960s?” Wonwoo chuckles as he takes another sip of his coffee. His nose scrunches up at the action, and Soonyoung, witnessing all of this with front seat privilege, feels his knees go weak.

“Anyway, that’s not exactly why I’m here.”

“The Art App paper, I know,” Soonyoung cuts him off, remembering the dreadful message he got from Minghao just hours ago. “I’ll work with you, don’t worry. It’s the least I can do to make up for what happened at the party.”

“Alright. I get to pick where we meet, though.”

Soonyoung sighs, not really having enough energy to put up an argument. “Fine.”

“Cool. Let’s meet Saturday at my place. I work the best, 100% efficiency and all, when I’m somewhere comfortable, which is obviously none other than my own home. I’ll wait for you at 3 in the afternoon. Don’t be late!”

Wonwoo bolts up from his seat, snatches his drink away and hurries away from Soonyoung, who is left with not even a chance to protest about how this whole partnership will roll out. He watches as his partner’s back recedes, and when he is nothing but a tiny black dot in the distance, Soonyoung returns to his position behind the counter of Gyu Brew.


	5. Chapter 5

It is probably a good thing that Soonyoung and Wonwoo live literally beside each other, making things easier for when they must write their joint paper for the Art Appreciation class they apparently share. It is on a rainy Saturday when they decide to meet, exactly six days before the deadline. Wonwoo insisted that they stay at his place instead, arguing about his efficiency at working when he is not in a place he is comfortable with. Soonyoung, who gets to work anywhere as long as he puts his mind into it, surrenders to his partner’s request.

Soonyoung discovers that Wonwoo’s place is world’s different from what he had imagined. He pictured tattered posters of obscure bands on the wall, dirty laundry scattered on the floor, and cigarette smoke lingering and clinging to the air. A typical abode of a band trying to make it big on the scene, if you may. However, Soonyoung is quick to reprimand himself for even thinking of stereotyping what a band member’s house should look like, for Wonwoo’s home is nothing but clean and organized. His walls are pristine and free from any posters or vandal. In place of a normal living room, a sleek, black chair stands in front of a long desk where a computer and several books on biology are perfectly aligned. In one of the corners a mahogany acoustic guitar stands proudly, as if saying, _look at me, I am the queen of this house._

“Do you want to maybe, step inside?” Wonwoo clears his throat, snapping the older out of his daze. Soonyoung suspects his cheeks are slightly tinted pink, having been embarrassed at being caught staring in awe at Wonwoo’s apartment. He steps inside the unit, and heads toward the kitchen counter on the right side.

“I uh- I baked brownies. I… I wanted to say sorry. For, uhm, throwing up on you.”

Wonwoo chuckles as he grabbed the tray of brownies, his hands brushing against Soonyoung’s hands ever so slightly. “You really didn’t have to, Soon,” the taller male reassures. “You had a lot to drink that night. I probably would have done the same if I were you.”

“But still, it’s pretty gross.”

“It is, isn’t it? But at least it makes for an interesting story to tell in the future.” Wonwoo smiles sheepishly, and Soonyoung feels something lodge behind his throat. He gulps and pushes it down, nervously glancing around the unit, anywhere just to avoid Wonwoo’s scrutinizing eyes.  

“Shall we work on the paper now?”

-

The two boys are huddled closely together on the desk, trying to come up of ideas on what to write for their introductory paper. It feels like an hour has almost passed and their minds are growing weary, seemingly on the verge of giving up even though they have not written even a single word. The cursor on the Word page they pulled out blinks at them mockingly, and it is at this point that Soonyoung reaches his breaking point.

“Okay. This is hopeless. So much about maximizing your efficiency, huh?” he accuses at Wonwoo, who currently has his body slumped against the desk. “If we want to finish this paper, we need to actually talk. Like you know, get to know each other.”

“You sure this isn’t just you using this paper as an excuse to get closer to me?” the taller lazily says, looking up at Soonyoung to flash yet another one of his teasing grins.

Soonyoung really hates that his cheeks are too prominent, because the least thing he wants right now is for Wonwoo to see the blush slowly creeping up his supple cheeks. “Ha ha. Funny joke. Fuck off. I wouldn’t have partnered with you if I had a choice. Don’t flatter yourself too much.”

Wonwoo leans on the black chair, placing his right hand over his chest and clutches at it, pretending to be hurt. The whole act looks ridiculous, but something about the silliness of it tugs at the tiniest strings of Soonyoung’s heart. He shakes the feeling away, however. He cannot afford to be distracted by anything, especially by someone who somehow always finds his way towards and through him. It is Soonyoung’s turn to clear his throat, hoping that it did not sound too forced, as if he is trying to clear away and hide the warm feeling blooming in his chest.

“Why do you live alone,” Soonyoung finally asks. If he and Wonwoo must understand each other, then they have to at least talk about something they have in common. Granted, Soonyoung could have asked why he is taking an Art Appreciation class (easily the most obvious thing that they share) when he is obviously a biology major, but what the heck. They (almost) made out. Soonyoung threw up on Wonwoo. They are literally sharing an apartment separated only by a thin wall. Formalities and basic questions can be damned.

The younger male visibly stiffens up, though, his back straightening against his chair, his hands sternly resting on his lap, fingers drumming nervously against his skin. His eyes dart around the room for a while until it settles on the mahogany guitar at the corner beside his desk.

“That guitar belonged to my grandma” Wonwoo says tenderly, his eyes softening at the mention of his grandmother. He closes his eyes and sees himself staring up at his grandmother as she gracefully plucks on the strings of the guitar, magically making the air around her dance and sing the sweetest melodies. Growing up in a family of doctors, Wonwoo feels imprisoned in his own fate. His parents, his brother, his uncles and aunts all expected him to pursue the same noble profession. _You are a Jeon, and a Jeon’s duty and principle lies on healing the sick._ Wonwoo knows that, and at least feels it deep in his heart, that indeed, he wants to be an instrument to heal the weak. But he found a different kind of healing, one that touches not only the physical, but transcends its boundaries to penetrate deep into the soul and the heart, and only his grandmother understood this.

“My parents were never really around much. Hospital duties and all. I pretty much grew up with her and her music. When she died, I felt my world crumble down around me. I can hear perfectly fine, but there was this deafening silence around me.” Wonwoo stands up and walks toward the guitar. He runs his finger through the curves of its smooth, amber body, before picking it up and resting it against his own. “But then I remembered all the memories that we share, and how much music was a part of it.” He closes his eyes, takes a deep breath, and slowly let his fingers find the melody that his heart knows note per note.

Soonyoung watched how gracefully Wonwoo’s body unites with the music. As he lets the notes in the air caress him, Soonyoung feels a flicker in his body as he recognizes the tune the taller boy is playing.

_It is the springtime of my loving_

_The second season I am to know_

_You are the sunlight in my growing_

_So little warmth I've felt before_

_It isn't hard to feel me glowing_

_I watched the fire that grew so low, oh_

Soonyoung sings the words to the song, effortlessly and seamlessly blending in with the guitar’s melody. The room lights up from the warmth of the marriage of two beautiful voices, a symphony that even the heaven’s angels would envy. Wonwoo strums the last note in his mahogany guitar, letting it linger in the air around them for a while, as if doing so would freeze the moment for the both of them.

“I didn’t know you can sing,” the younger tells the older a bit later.

“I’m a theatre major, you could have at least expected that,” Soonyoung snaps, but this time only jokingly, and with a gentleness that he usually foregoes during their first encounters.

“We just shared a very intimate moment, and you could not take your sassiness away for five seconds?” Wonwoo laments as he puts his guitar back to his stand, then walking back to the black chair where he was perched earlier. “I am offended, Soonyoung,” he cries as dramatically as he could.

Soonyoung laughs at him. “There’s one reason you won’t survive theatre. Terrible, terrible acting skills, Mr. Jeon. I take my craft seriously and me having to witness your… stunt stresses my eyes out to the point of tears!” He fake cries as dramatically inept as Wonwoo did, making the other burst into a fit of laughter.

“Hey, what’s so funny about that! I am serious when I say I take theatre seriously,” Soonyoung defends from a Wonwoo, who is all tears from seeing the older act so horribly it becomes so terrific. “Just imagine the impact theatre has, not only on an individual, but also on the community, the society! Think about self-discovery and expression. Lots of actors develop confidence through the stage. The writers get to express and communicate their ideas! Think about how it could become a tool to educate the actors, the staff, even the audience themselves about their current condition. Theatre can motivate! It can mobilize! Theatre has the capacity to— why are you giving me that kind of look?”

Wonwoo just smiles, his eyes glassy as he stares at Soonyoung’s face. He lifts his hand up, resting his palm against the older’s right cheek. “Nothing. I just love it when you speak so passionately.” To Soonyoung’s brain, that is the cue to once again summon his blood to rush to his cheeks, tinting it with the rosiest blush possible. Soonyoung backs away from Wonwoo’s touch as if it scalds his skin, when in reality he wants nothing but to bury himself in the younger’s touch and embrace. He knows he cannot do that, however.

“Well, at least now we have something to write on this damned paper,” Soonyoung settles to remind himself, more than Wonwoo, that what they have in front of them is an academic arrangement and nothing more.

-

Later that night, Soonyoung stares at the ceiling of his bedroom, no rowdy neighbor to distract him from sleeping. He turns to his side, focusing on the wall that separates him from Wonwoo instead. As he feels gravity pull his lids close drifting him off to sleep, he thinks that maybe, he does not hate Jeon Wonwoo after all.

\-----

            _“You called me Soon.”_

_“Huh?”_

_“Earlier. You called me Soon. Don’t think I didn’t catch up on that.”_

_“Sorry. Should I not call you that?”_

_“Not at all. I don’t mind.”_

_“Can I call you that? Soon?”_

_“Would you like it if I let you?”_

_“Very much.”_

_“Alright.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song is The Rain Song by Led Zeppelin.


	6. Chapter 6

“You’re gonna turn that counter into a fucking mirror soon enough, Kwon Soonyoung.” Seokmin says after having watched his friend furiously wipe the marble counter for the past thirty minutes or so. Today is Gyu Brew’s monthly Open Mic Sessions, and to celebrate the A  they got on their paper together, Soonyoung invited Wonwoo to attend the event. _Food and drinks are on me, don’t worry._

It is five minutes to the start of event, and people are starting to flock in and fill the seats of the quaint café. Soonyoung sees familiar faces; seatmates from his previous classes, seniors from the speech communication organization, a literature professor he cannot quite recall the name of, and even Chan, the lanky freshman, who has now become a regular at the café. The one familiar face that Soonyoung hopes to see, however, is still nowhere to be found.

Outside, the rains splatters against the window, casting a muffled buzz and a chill on the atmosphere.

Soonyoung has been a regular performer at Gyu Brew’s Open Mic Sessions, but tonight, a fresh sensation of anxiety washes over him. Generally, he finds comfort and joy in being able to express his emotions and make other people empathize with him. Performing in front of a crowd comes naturally to him, but the thought of having Wonwoo watching him under the spotlight makes him feel vulnerable and fragile.

He does not notice that he has been standing spaced out against the coffee shop counter until Mingyu approaches him later. “You okay, Soon?” he asks, worry painting his face. “You don’t have to perform tonight if you’re not feeling well.” Soonyoung just gives him a weak smile in return. If there is anything he has learned as a theatre student, it is that the show must always go on.

“No, I’ll be fine. I’ll go get changed now.”

-

The harsh yellow light from the café’s makeshift spotlight casts a glow on Soonyoung’s face. The light blinds him, blocking his view of the audience’s faces. _Right, I guess it could be better this way. He won’t be here anyway._ Soonyoung hears his cue as Seokmin, who stands at the podium beside the stage acts as tonights emcee, ends his spiel to introduce the first performer. Soonyoung closes his eyes, breathes in, and exhales as the applause fades to let him take over.

 _I’m falling, falling, falling into you_  
_Struggling, movements slowing to a halt,_  
_All because of you_  
_I’m starting to drown, my lungs filling with water_  
_A fool I am_  
_A fool swimming in a murky pool_

 _I dip my toes once_  
_It twitches, seemingly wanting to let go_  
_I dip my toes twice_  
_A tantalizing feel crawls up from the tip of my toes_  
_Soaking my entire body_  
_Drowning my entire body_  
_It it your light, and the warmth envelopes me_  
_And my heart bounces! Badum Tss!_

 _I’m falling, falling, falling into you_  
_Struggling, movements slowing to a halt,_  
_All because of you_  
_I’ve always been the swimming fool_  
_I’m starting to drown, my lungs filling with water_  
_And so I will always be the swimming fool_  
_Because with you, I want to keep swimming._

A brief silence, a series of applause erupts inside Gyu Brew. A few spectators wipes a tear or two from the corner of their eyes, feeling their heart swell up from the unexpectedly emotional opening piece for tonight. Soonyoung bows for a few seconds, and as he steps down the platform and out the yellow spotlight, he feels his heart clench in his chest, hit with a sudden realization.

He turns his head to search the sea of faces in front of him, praying even to gods he does not know, that the one face he desperately wants to see be present among a haze of blacks and browns. Soonyoung thinks that he must have been a thief from his past life for the gods to deny him of his only prayer. He walks to the back of the cafe where Mingyu and Minghao sits, his head hanging low as he tries to quell the tears threatening to form in his eyes.

_“Don’t you think that was poignant? I most certainly thought so. Everyone please give another warm round of applause to Kwon Soonyoung and his touching performance!”_

Soonyoung thinks he is hearing things, but another round of claps and cheers drowns the thoughts in his head. Wonwoo might not be here, but Soonyoung is, and just like the other Open Mic Sessions before this, he is going to enjoy himself. He fakes a smile as he walks the remaining steps to Mingyu and Minghao’s shared table, bracing himself for congratulations as well as interrogations about his latest writing. True enough, Minghao already whips out a question before Soonyoung’s butt even touches the seat of his chair.

_This song that I am going to perform holds a significant place in my heart. It helped me get through the toughest time of my life. Tonight, I want to share it to all of you, but most importantly, I want to dedicate this to the person who showed me that even though a little rain might fall, there would always be a rainbow to look forward to after it._

“So who is it, Soonyoungie? Who’s got your guts twisted and tangled up for you to write such heart-wrenching poetry?”

Soonyoung munches on a garlic bread he stole from Minghao’s plate, trying to avoid his inquisition. He does not think he can be sane tonight to talk about his feelings. Not when he can hear clearly picture Wonwoo’s fingers gliding through the strings of his guitar. Not when he can clearly hear his deep, husky voice echoing through the chambers of his mind.

 _It is the springtime of my loving_  
_The second season I am to know_  
_You are the sunlight in my growing_  
_So little warmth I've felt before_  
_It isn't hard to feel me glowing_  
_I watched the fire that grew so low, oh_

Soonyoung thinks back to that rainy afternoon in Wonwoo’s apartment unit. How easily they opened up their hearts for the other to see. Letting down all guards, trusting each other with their past and their ambitions _._

 _It is the summer of my smiles_  
        _Flee from me, keepers of the gloom_  
_Speak to me only with your eyes_  
_It is to you I give this tune_  
_Ain't so hard to recognize, oh_  
_These things are clear to all from time to time, ooh_

Soonyoung thinks back to the way Wonwoo’s palm felt against his cheek that time. Warm and comforting, like a cinnamon roll and a cup of coffee on a snowy morning.

 _Oh, oh_  
_Oh, oh_  
             _Oh_  
             _Talk talk, talk, talk_  
_Hey, I felt the coldness of my winter_  
_I never thought it would ever go_  
_I cursed the gloom that set upon us, 'pon us, 'pon us, 'pon us_

Soonyoung thinks he is absolutely going insane, because they never got to this part when they sang this song during that one fateful afternoon. He thinks he is going absolutely insane because he cannot possibly be imagining the Wonwoo that is now on the stage in front of him, his pale skin being illuminated by the golden rays of the spotlight. He is real, and so is the mahogany guitar embraced between his arms, emanating the sweetest melody, tugging at his heartstrings.  _  
_

_But I know that I love you so_  
         _Oh, but I know_  
_That I love you so_  
_These are the seasons of emotion_  
_And like the wind, they rise and fall_  
_This is the wonder of devotion_  
_I see the torch_  
_We all must hold_  
_This is the mystery of the quotient, quotient_  
_Upon us all, upon us all a little rain must fall_  
_Just a little rain, oh_  
_Ooh, yeah-yeah-yeah_

Soonyoung thinks he is absolutely insane, because seconds later, he finds himself running towards the stage, jumping at Wonwoo to enclose him in the tightest hug he could muster, not wanting to let go, fearing that if he does, the bloom in his chest would wilt and fade away to the dullest vine, gnawing at his insides until nothing is left but a deep longing that cannot be satisfied. 

"I was scared you'll never come," the smaller male whines into Wonwoo's shoulders, voice slightly wavering. 

Wonwoo runs his hands up and down Soonyoung's back, hoping to comfort him with the gesture. "For you, Soon, I will always be present." He pushes at Soonyoung slightly so he stares directly at his eyes, as if the entire galaxy swirls beneath his pupils. 

"Kwon Soonyoung, will you be my boyfriend?"  

"I thought you'd never ask, dipshit." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, Soonyoung recited the lyrics to Swimming Fool lmao sjkdhjs tweaked the english translation a bit to make it sound ~poetic~. PLs forgiVE ME IF I BUTCHERED IT OMG 
> 
> If you made it up to this point, thank you very much for enduring this shitshow of a fic. I'm really sorry if some of the plot points are all over the place ;; I tried my best and I hope it was enough to hold this story in place at least. 
> 
> Comments and constructive criticisms are very much appreciated! 
> 
> Again, happy holidays! I hope that through this fic I have somehow made your christmas a tad bit better. 
> 
> All the love x


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